


Blood is Thicker

by echoelbo



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Family Fluff, Gen, Goro accidentally surrounded himself with two found families oops, Not In Chronological Order, One Shot Collection, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers.......????, at all, au - shrugs loudly and pretends a Certain Part of Canon never happened, basically Goro and his sisters and dad, how, this fic is officially going out to everyone who writes long chapters, work shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoelbo/pseuds/echoelbo
Summary: Goro lived his entire life alone - and with a bad taste in his mouth, he thought that would always be the case. Little did he know that family isn't always related by blood.





	1. Cafe Accident

**Author's Note:**

> The blood of the covenent is thicker than the water if the womb

"One coffee made with Blue Mountain beans, kid!"

"Coming up, Boss!"

Goro's tone is pleasant as he wipes his hands on his apron. He follows the brewing steps almost mechanically - it had been months since Sojiro had taken him in, and he was forever grateful for the support he had been shown, even if it felt unreal. Even if it made his body feel like it was miles away, or like every nerve of his was pulled taut. Even if he was certain the affection was faked, that Sojiro would figure out he was just a broken and empty shell glued together haphazardly, that Sojiro never actually cared for him, that Sojiro would throw him out, that Sojiro--

He bites down on his tongue, the pain helping to ground him once more. He waits patiently as the coffee brews before pouring it into a mug. Satisfied with his work, he turns to deliver it to the customer.

"Surprise!" comes a voice behind him as he feels arms around his shoulders, as someone tackles him from behind, as hands get far to close to his throat, as control seems to be wrenched from him as the hands seem to burn on his skin as it feels like he's being kicked against a wall as it feels like he's suffocating, choking, shrinking, breaking---

He reaches behind himself and grabs the hair of his assailant in a practiced motion before readjusting himself and slamming it against the counter. His free hand grips their wrists, making sure his attacker can't retaliate.

It takes a brief moment for Goro to come back to his senses, and when he sees orange hair in his hand and the terrified expression of someone he'd grown to consider family staring into his eyes, he feels his entire body freeze. He notes a pool of blood forming under her face, and his gut clenches as he realizes the source of it is probably a broken nose. He lets go of her hair and wrists as they were snakes which had bitten him, and his expression is one of raw fear, something he never expected to show to others. He backs away slowly, avoiding Sojiro's gaze - what did I do what did I do what did I do he surely hates me he'll throw me out I'll have nowhere to go I'll be alone alone alone - before the stares of the customers become too much to bear. He doesn't give an excuse as he runs to the attic, heart pounding in his throat and ceramic shards digging into his feet. Goro barely recognizes the pain, much less realizes how deep the shards cut. His mind feels completely separate from his body, and he just needs to escape before he can make things worse for himself. He makes it to the bed of the attic and he sits on it, burying his face in his hands and clawing at his forehead. The sensation of pain doesn't bring him back, and he's left alone to calm his breathing and organize his thoughts.

Birds chirp outside of the attic, pecking at the fence. The room is otherwise quiet, save for the harsh gasps of the boy. He sits on the bed with his face in his hands and red streaks down his face, most from nails but two other streaks from tears. He tries to even out his breathing, even slightly, but that takes far longer than he would have liked.

The sound of stairs creaking catches his attention, and he leans back on the bed, instinctually covering his face with his arms. His lungs seem to obey him then and he manages to quiet his breathing almost immediately, though his heart continues to pound in his ears. He listens as footsteps make it up the stairs to the attic, one slow and heavy and the other much quieter. They pause at the top of the stairs, but Goro doesn't bother looking - he knows who has intruded on his room.

Silence stretches out for somewhere between a few seconds and a few hours, it seems, before the heavier feet make their way across the room. Someone sits on the bed next to him, and he can feel their eyes on him.

Without ceremony, he feels a weight placed on his chest. He moves his arms then and looks at the unknown weight.

A first aid kit.

He shoots a confused look at his guardian, who simply looks away. It's a sign of pity, he realizes, or maybe even respect. Either way, Goro feels sick - he didn't want to show this type of weakness to anyone, especially not the Sakura family.

He sits up and glances up at Futaba, who hesitates before walking over and sitting on the other side of him. He notes the blood on her face and how her nose seems misshapen now, and he cringes. He looks back down at the first aid kit, and the realization he had when he first saw it becomes a conscious thought.

He nods at her before picking up the first aid kit before placing it to the side. Futaba stares at him in shock, but before she can say anything, he smiles as convincingly as he can and places a finger playfully over his lips.

"This kit won't help much, we need ice instead. Now c'mon," he gestures, "let's clean up the blood and get you an ice pack."

Sojiro hides the smile forming at his face, looking away pointedly.

"Sojiro!" Futaba shouts suddenly. Sojiro gasps and looks over, concern now plain on his face, but Futaba just grins in return. "I've decided - Goro's my go-to for first aid! He's much faster about this than you are!"

Sojiro stares in shock, but a laugh involuntarily leaves him. He turns away again, trying to hide another smile.

"Just don't replace me entirely, you hear? I'm old, y'know, I know my way around an injury or two."

The smile leaks into his voice and Goro feels no desire to tell him that he, too, knows his way around far worse injuries than a broken nose. Futaba grins even brighter at Sojiro, fondness clear in her features, before she bids him farewell and runs off to the kitchen with Goro.

 

* * *

 

"It's cooooold!" Futaba whines as she holds the ice pack on her nose, obeying her brother's orders perfectly regardless.

Goro grins. "It reduces the swelling and helps the wound heal," he provides, though something in him tells him that she already knows this. She whines louder in response, and that draws a laugh from him.

Her expression turns serious almost immediately, however, and he feels fear at the change.

"Now we need to fix your feet!" she declares in a nasally voice. Goro stares at her for a moment before her words sink in and he looks down at his feet.

Blood, he notes numbly. He looks to the staircase immediately, and cringes when he notices the blood starting to dry on them.

"I..." he starts. Futaba stares at him in awe.

"You.... didn't even notice?" she asks quietly, clearly unsure of herself.

Goro shakes his head. "I... I had other things on my mind, admittedly." Fear, mainly, fear of being unwanted, hated, disposed of...

Even without him saying it, Futaba seems to understand. Her expression softens for a brief moment before she sits up straight on her chair, finger pointing up.

"We gotta fix it now, though! So tell me how, doc!"

He stares at her, amazed at her energy. He lifts his right foot up, noting the cuts and the ceramic shards lodged into his feet. He must've stepped on a coffee mug he dropped, he notes dryly to himself. He pulls a shard out without thought, and recoils only slightly at the pain. His mind still felt miles away from his body.

Futaba, however, recoils heavily when he pulls it out. "Don't - Don't do that!" she yells, cringing at the open wound. He stares at her blankly for a moment before he smiles, mostly forced and empty yet somehow also fond.

"We'll need the first aid kit," he declares, finding some energy in him to gesture dramatically at the declaration. He puts his foot back on the floor and stands up, motioning for Futaba to come with. She grins up at him.

"I'm ready to learn, doc!" she exclaims, as energetic as ever, though Goro can hear some queasiness in her voice. He finds himself in awe of her willpower and tries to smile as reassuringly as he can.

"It'll be like hard mode, though," he muses, watching her eyes light up in surprise at the gaming reference, "trying to learn how to patch someone up while holding an ice pack to your nose."

She grins back up at him. "I'm no quitter, you should know that! I'm ready for the challenge!"


	2. Bets

"Wanna make a bet?"

Sae's eye twitches as she looks over to the couch. Her partner scribbles notes lazily on his paperwork, supported by one of her hardcover law books. She looks back at her paperwork and sighs, aware of how long she's been working and how much more work she has left.

"What type of bet?" she asks, voice laced with irritation but harboring no venom.

Akechi hums. "Just something to pass the time," he drawls. "Whoever wins gets 1000¥."

Sae sighs. Just a game. "And what's the bet?"

Akechi makes a thoughtful noise and taps his pen against his chin. "Maybe... whether or not the SIU director will rub his nose, the next time we report to him?"

That catches her interest. Akechi always claimed the director would rub his nose often, but Sae never paid enough attention to notice it herself. She can't remember him ever doing so, but with some money on the line, maybe she would pay more attention.

"Fine then. I bet he won't."

Sae can practically feel Akechi brighten. "Ooh, then I bet he will!"

"For now, get back to work. That evidence won't sort itself out."

Sae is already refocused on her work, but that doesn't deter Akechi from sighing as dramatically as he can.

 

* * *

  

The two civil workers step out of the director's office together, expressions collected and serious. As they take off to return home, the first few steps are silent. Then, Sae bites her lower lip and reaches for her wallet, sliding out a 1000¥ note and holding it out for Akechi. He takes it with grace, and Sae refuses to look in his direction, knowing full well that he's now grinning.

 

* * *

 

"I've got one," Sae says, fanning some air against her face. The summer is far too hot for her tastes.

Akechi seems unfazed by the heat, but Sae knows him better than that. She notices his eye twitching and the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Oh?" he asks, turning his head towards her. She gestures to a man sitting on a bench, his hands fidgeting in his lap and his eyes scanning the area cautiously.

"There's the suspect. I bet that he'll yell at you during your interrogation."

Akechi whistles before grinning. "Sounds good! I'm charming, I can keep him calm."

Ten minutes and one large bruise on the face later, Akechi leaves the suspect to the police and dejectedly hands Sae her cash.

 

* * *

 

Gloved hands hover over the object, careful not to disturb anything in their initial investigation. He jots words and doodles down on his notepad, taking clear notes on the entirety of the scene as well as details of the surrounding rooms. Even the things that seemed irrelevant are recorded, for the sake of thoroughness. He sighs loudly, looking between the window and objects that he is certain weren't in those locations yesterday.

"The scene's been tampered with," he sighs again, feeling a headache coming on. "I can take notes on what is here now and I have quick notes on what I got to examine yesterday, but I can't do any better for now."

Sae looks over from the door, standing behind the "Do not enter" tape. "It's been tampered with? That makes no sense, this area's been off limits since the accident."

Their eyes settle on the open window. Goro feels the need to slam his head against a wall, or at least drown his thoughts in a drink or ten.

Sensing her partner's anger, Sae speaks quickly. "How about a deal?" she asks. Goro looks at her, his eyes filled with irritation. "I bet this scene was tampered with by... a bird."

He stares at her, eyebrow cocked, before nodding. He appreciates the distraction, and decides that maybe he can make his job slightly more fun this way. "Very well. Then I bet the culprit is a cat."

They hold fort for the night, staying until an animal approaches their hideout - and simply stare in shock as the creature before them wags its tail and barks happily, glad to be the center of attention. Akechi kneels down and absentmindedly rubs its head.

"... Dogs are closer to cats than birds," he states.

"That doesn't count," she snaps back.

 

* * *

 

Sae hovers by the bed, uncertain how long she can stay. The sun will set soon, and she still has work to do - work that seems to pile up far too fast now. She stares at the comatose figure in front of her.

"Here's one," she starts, unsure what else to say. "I bet that you won't wake up. I don't think you're strong enough for that," she lies, biting her tongue. Egging him on was one of the fun parts of betting, but she doesn't feel joy in her jabs this time. "You hate losing, right? If so, then prove me wrong."

She stays slightly longer before clutching her purse close and leaving, brushing gently against the nurse on her way out.

 

* * *

 

Akechi jumps slightly as a piece of paper slaps his face, and he stares groggily at it from the couch. He grabs it, marveling at the bill in his hand, before giving Sae an inquisitive look.

"You won the bet," she says airily, clearly unwilling to say more on the matter. The smile on her face is genuine, despite having lost a supposed bet, and Akechi can only stare at her in confusion and try to remember their previously unsettled bets.


	3. Badge

"Where's Niijima-san?"

"I am Niijima-san."

The officer looks at the boy before him, face twisting in confusion. "I know you're close friends with her, Akechi-kun, but--"

"Sir, if you would take a look at my badge, you would be able to read quite clearly that I am, in fact, Sae Niijima."

Goro mimics Sae's unamused tone and expression perfectly, except for the slight playful glint in his eyes. He crosses his arms as the officer tries to look past him into Sae's office.

"I understand that you have her badge, sir, but..." He trails off, understanding that he won't be able to get any useful information out of the boy. Goro could be surprisingly stubborn about the strangest of things, and while the officers who've worked with him had realized early on that they could break his facade by yelling at him or even simply getting mad, they felt awful making a young kid curl in on himself.

Plus, an angry Sae isn't something any of the officers intend to deal with again.

"But...?" Goro asks, his body brimming with masked glee.

The officer sighs in defeat. The kid is a brat, but he's a kid nonetheless.

"Do you need something?" asks a female voice nearby, and the officer turns quickly to the source.

"Niijima-san! I was sent here to deliver a report to you."

Sae looks between the two. "I see..." she says, eyes staying on Goro.

He simply grins and flashes the badge at her.

"I'm Niijima-san today," he explains, and the officer gives Sae a long-suffering stare.

Sae thinks for a moment, looking between the two. With every ounce of seriousness she can muster, she deadpans, "You heard the boy. Deliver the report to Niijima-san and give him my regards, please."

The officer stares at Sae, mouth agape, while Goro bursts into laughter. He grips the door frame, barely able to breathe through his laughs, and Sae finds she can't hold back a small smile.


	4. Horror

Makoto lingers at the doorway for a few minutes, trying to still the nervousness bleeding through her. She listens to the murmur of the television and the two participants in the room.

Makoto admires her sister. She took control quickly after their father's passing, and despite all the hard work and all-nighters, she stayed kind to Makoto. Makoto also admires the boy who helped her sister through hard times, who puts in just as much effort and love into his work as she does.

So of course they're close. Makoto bites her lip, trying to bury the jealousy rising in her. Of course her sister would love the boy who's smart and quick, who's determined and works hard.

Of course she'd choose to hang out with him instead of her, someone who relies on her family to get by.

She listens to the quiet murmurs again and takes a shuddering breath before walking into the living room. The effect is almost immediate.

"Makoto?" asks Sae, looking for the remote and pausing the movie. Goro looks over Sae's shoulder, popsicle sticking lazily out of his mouth as his eyes quietly burn into her, gauging her.

Makoto swallows.

"I couldn't sleep," she says.

Goro and Sae share a quick glance. "We could turn the movie down," Sae says.

Makoto shakes her head. "That's not it." She looks between the two and then the paused movie. "... Can I join you two?"

They share another quick glance before Goro nods. "Sure," Sae says, smiling warmly. They both scoot to the sides, making room for Makoto to sit between them.

So she sits between them, arms crossed in her lap. The movie starts again, the volume turned up slightly.

Only a few moments pass before Sae and Goro are back to judging the movie, calling it out on its cheap scare tactics. Goro is still tense, despite all his attempts not to be, and Makoto finds herself tense as well, but for increasingly different reasons.

She focuses on Goro instead of the movie, noting the strain of his voice and how stiffly he sits. She watches his fingers twitch, how his arm seems locked despite his efforts to gesture at the screen.

A loud noise sounds right as the screen flashes, and Makoto screams. She grips the closest person to her, squeezing them tightly as she cries for help. She hears shuffling and a few moments pass before a hand rubs circles in her back. Makoto's cries die down to sobs, and she looks up.

Startled red eyes meet hers, and she realizes quickly that she had made a mistake. She pushes herself off of Goro, clearing her throat. She opens her mouth to say something, but her throat is dry, her embarrassment choking her.

"Are you alright?" Sae asks, and Makoto nods. Sae nods back.

"Would an action movie be better?" asks a different voice, even more strained than before, and Makoto looks back to Goro to see that he's become stiff as a board. Despite his clear discomfort, he seems amused at Makoto's reactions.

She clears her throat and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, I believe that would be better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sae and her two anxious nerds - the movie


	5. A Sight for Sore Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are short and are based off of two of my favorite songs. They both contain spoilers, so be aware.
> 
> The first is Kenshi Yonezu's Sight for Sore Eyes, and the second is his Metronome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I want is simple - there's a future with you in it,  
> And for me to see what that future would be,  
> That'd be a sight for sore eyes...

"Is something wrong, Akechi-kun?"

Goro looks up from his work and meets Sae's gaze. He looks back to the papers in his lap, barely even noticing how they aren't filled out.

He blinks.

He looks back to Sae and smiles, one that's forced and practiced and he knows Sae will see right through. "I'm fine," he assures her, and her stare says more than a million words. It burns through him, and he looks back to his work.

Over an hour of silence passes before Goro looks back up, eyes locking onto Sae's back. It's exposed to him, and whether or not she realizes the implications there is beside the point. With just a few steps, with only his pen, he could sneak up behind her and jam the plastic into her neck or skull, or even through her back and into her heart.

He could kill her then and there, if he so desired. His time is ticking to an end regardless - for him, it won't change a thing.

But it isn't what he desires.

The thought makes him sick, made him nearly retch when the director gave the order to blame her upcoming death on the Phantom Thieves. He had wanted to lock himself away for the rest of his life, do anything to prevent her blood from staining his hands.

Instead, he sits on her office's couch, watching her back.

She's too involved in her desire to catch the thieves to notice his attention, too invested in her coming promotion to pay mind to his or Makoto's strange behaviors. He watches her wistfully, wishing he could reach her like she did him, wishing he could mend her broken relationship with her sister.

"Niijima-san," he starts, before he can stop himself. Sae turns to look at him, irritation heavy in her eyes.

"What is it?" she asks, voice cold.

_I want to confess to you,_ he thinks. _I want to protect you,_ he thinks. _I want to hold you, to tell you everything, to watch movies with you, to play games with you._

_I want to be with you,_ he thinks.

"Make sure you sleep tonight," he says instead, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Sae scoffs, angry at the implications that he thinks she can't take care of herself, and a gentle laugh escapes him.

He thinks about how he won't see her warm smile ever again, about how he won't even be drawing breath in two months.

_I want to see the future you hold,_ he thinks, smiling weakly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That'd be a sight for sore eyes...


	6. Metronome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever today is, whatever I try to do,  
> I suppose I'll end up searching for you...  
> My mind still gets thoughts I want to tell you,  
> Not a single one of them dwindling -  
> But I want you to laugh me off...

The last time she had talked with him was in a cold corridor, offering him a phone after learning he had murdered countless people.

The last time she had heard about him was when she asked the Phantom Thieves about him, and they responded with silence, their eyes heavy and filled with guilt.

She knows.

Sae sits on her bed, scratching away at papers on a clipboard Goro had claimed as his own. With a pen Goro had claimed as his own. She had scoffed at the boy at the time for stealing her equipment, but he always returned it, leaving it in her office every night. She taps the pen against the clipboard, listening to the sounds they make. She closes her eyes.

She knows.

Even while filling out paperwork regarding his absence and disappearance, she knows her efforts are fruitless. She had known ever since a few days after he had disappeared, despite having not seen him since his attempted murder in the interrogation room. But she knew. The world was muffled by the snow falling for the first time that year, and all Sae could do was stand and hug her jacket closer to herself, pretend that the chill she felt and the sudden dullness of the world were both due to the snow.

Her pen drops. She stays dazed for a few moments before she reaches to pick it up. She stops midway.

Something else falls near the pen. Something that glimmers and is absorbed into the carpet easily, leaving a tiny damp spot on the floor.

Sae stares at the spot for a moment before bringing her hand to her face, wiping under her eyes and feeling the warm liquid stain her hands.

She stares.

She knows.

She puts the clipboard beside her and brings her knees to her chest, burying her face between her legs and trying to keep her breathing even. She thinks about calling it a day and sleeping early, but she can't move. So instead, she lets her thoughts wander to the timid boy from two years ago, to the sarcastic boy from one year ago.

To the boy from a month ago, who was unable to find words and always smiling at her sadly.

Her breath hitches.

He knew.

She knows.

She looks back to her paperwork, blurred from the tears in her eyes, and knows it's pointless. She runs her finger along the wood of the clipboard instead, unnerved by the lack of marks Goro had made on it through the years. He hadn't left anything about his existence behind. Maybe it had been intentional, or perhaps he was simply never able to carve his own place in the world.

She runs her finger along the clipboard.

She knows he won't return. And she knows that she misses him dearly, as her closest friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you to be there...


	7. Code

Goro stares at his notebook, hoping beyond all else that if he stares long enough, he’ll be able to absorb the knowledge into himself.

He can’t.

So instead, he simply squints and glares at the messy writing, some letters barely discernible and others completely foreign. He wonders if he had just doodled something, if those words aren’t actually words and are just bad art instead. Though, he supposes, the entirety of his notes look like bad art.

He sighs. “Niijima-san, can you help me?” His voice is defeated and Sae sighs as well, too used to this to find it funny anymore. She gestures for him to give his notes to her, and he stands up, quickly complying.

With only a moment and far less effort than Goro had given, she points to the first line. “‘The body had three gunshots wounds visible, two through the left shoulder, caused by one bullet, and one seemingly lodged into the left chest. The first bullet was found lodged into a sofa nearby, covered in blood and bent, and...’” She keeps reading the notes and Goro listens intently. Eventually, she pauses, looking over the section Goro had affectionately dubbed as “probably bad doodles”.

She squints and brings the notebook closer to her. Goro taps his finger against his arm impatiently.

“... Akechi-kun, what is this.” The words are so flat that all Goro can do is shrug.

“Probably bad art?” he offers nonchalantly.

Sae looks him in the eye, a spark of irritation in hers. “You don’t even know?” she asks. Goro shrugs again, and Sae leans back, clearly exasperated. “Akechi-kun, these are notes from a crime scene, important evidence for realizing who the culprit is.”

Goro gestures at his notes. “Well, obviously these particular observations aren’t important, considering I couldn’t bother to write them down legibly.”

Sae scoffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks to Goro and he meets her gaze defiantly.

They both know how this ends.

So she sighs and lets it go, knowing Goro well enough that he wouldn’t forget vital details.

“Be more careful next time,” she says. Goro nods before moving back to the couch, sitting on it haphazardly.

Minutes tick by, only scratching and typing noises in the room. Sae hears Goro shift behind her, a very long and noisy shift.

Without looking, she tells him, “Don’t get too lightheaded.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers without missing a beat, and Sae turns to see him laying half off the couch, legs dangling off the back and head hanging upside-down off the front.

Sae doesn’t grace him with a response and goes back to typing. That seems to suit Goro fine, as he continues his work as if he weren’t almost entirely upside-down.

The door creaks open without warning, and right as Sae hears someone say, “Niijima-san, I have a question,” she also hears the sound of frantic shuffling and an almost-immediate crash.

Sae glances briefly at the officer standing at her door, frozen in temporary shock, then looks to Goro. The boy is curled up on the floor, cradling the back of his head in pain and muttering curses under his breath.

Sae brings a hand up to cover her smile, trying to hold back a laugh. The officer quickly runs over to Goro, extending a helping hand and asking what had happened. Goro accepts the help with a forced smile, tactfully ignoring the officer’s questions by asking him why he’s here.

As if suddenly remembering his purpose, he turns to Sae. “Niijima-san, I have a— ah, well, you know this...” he trails off. Sae removes her hand, pretending that her warm smile is directed at the officer.

It widens slightly as Goro sticks his tongue out at her from behind him.

“You’re fine,” she opts for, trying to sound encouraging. “What’s the question?”

Her attention, despite her efforts, is focused more on the pouting boy behind the guest. “I wanted to ask you about these notes,” he says, extending a torn notebook page to Sae.

She accepts it hesitantly. “What about them?”

“Well, they’re his notes,” he says, gesturing at the boy behind him. Goro’s sitting on the couch politely, posture perfect and expression unreadable. His tone implies that this is the only option he has, and Sae quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t you read them yourself?” she asks, looking over the notes. They’re surprisingly legible for something Goro scribbled down.

The look he gives her is one of complete confusion. “But his notes are written in code,” he says, voice bewildered.

Sae glances past him to the boy on the couch, expression still unreadable. She sees his lips quirk - guilt, or amusement? - and his eyes look at her almost pleadingly.

It clicks.

“That’s right,” she says, reaching into her binder to pull out a blank piece of paper. “It won’t take much time to translate it. Give me a moment.”

The officer nods, seemingly relieved, and Sae quickly rewrites Goro’s notes. She hands the paper to the officer and he thanks her, leaving the room hurriedly. As the door behind him clicks shut, she turns to Goro, who has his arms spread across the back of the couch leisurely.

“You told him you write in code?” she asks, incredulous.

Goro shrugs, unable to keep a proud smile off his face. “Technically, I just joked that I miiiiiight write my notes in a code only you and I know,” he explains.

“And he took it seriously...”

“Not just him,” Goro adds. Sae looks at him in shock, and only a brief moment passes before they both burst into laughter.

“You’re unbelievable,” Sae says, out of breath and wiping a tear from her eye. Goro waves her off, struggling to breathe through his laughter.


	8. Questionnaire

Sae pushes the door open for the first time in days. It creaks and whines from disuse, but she ignores it, switching on the light.

Her office has a fine layer of dust covering it, otherwise untouched in the past year. She had prefered to work at home instead, so that she could spend more time with Makoto. She avoided the office whenever possible.

Now, she closes the door behind her and sits at her desk, placing the questionnaire in front of her with a grunt. It’s an annoying thing to fill out every year, and Sae doesn’t see the point.

Regardless, she fills out the answers one by one in immaculate ink, hand flowing almost mechanically until she reaches the final question.

_Where do you see yourself in three years?_

The question is unassuming, but it makes the hairs on her arm stand up. Her mind fills with loud static, pushing out any answers she could come up with.

She groans in frustration, placing her pen on the desk and pinching her nose. She opens her mouth and turns to the couch behind her before pausing.

It’s a habit, really, but she regrets it almost immediately. Her mouth closes and she examines the other half of the room for the first time in months - dust covering it, pillows left in their normal positions, blanket folded.

The only object out of place, the only proof of another ever existing in the room, is a clipboard on the table.

She looks back at her questionnaire and bites her lip as she remembers her friend making snide remarks about it, sharing her same distaste. The process was more tolerable when she could vent about it to someone who understood.

She looks back down to the last question, one that Goro had accidentally left blank the past year.

Her fists clench and she stares at it, a realization dawning on her - that her partner rarely lied, that he was meticulous to a fault.

And that he left out information often, whenever it suited him.

Sae stares at the question for minutes before hesitantly picking up the pen again and writing a short sentence as an answer, the final word smudged from a tear soaking into the page:

_With you again, after I find you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and lovingly dedicated to Kiwi, who killed me (jerk)


End file.
